When games turn deadly, Luca Scarlatti finds himself caught up in a mob war for control of a city.

Luca Scarlatti hates his stepfather, Salvatore Calabrese, but he has to work for his keep. During his new job, he's mistaken for a hooker and taken to mob enforcer, Ryan Callaghan, for a night of fun. The two fall for each other, and it turns out Ryan works for Niall Murphy, Luca's old school friend and enemy of Calabrese. Luca joins Niall and Ryan in cleaning up the town and avenging their fathers' deaths.

Luca and Ryan face many dangers from Calabrese. Can their budding relationship survive? Will they?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

People sometimes say the world is an incredible and amazing place. People sometimes lie. Such were the thoughts of Luca Scarlatti as he moved from his bedroom at the front of the ultra-modern house into the dining room at the back. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave a panoramic view over the city in both this room and the living room, and he longed to be down there, walking the streets, alone with his thoughts.

"Good morning, Luca."

A voice he knew all too well--smooth, friendly, and from behind him. He half-turned to speak to his stepfather, an immaculately dressed man in his late forties who had close-cropped, graying dark-brown hair and a gold ring in his right ear. "Good morning. I see the assassins have failed again," Luca said as he shrugged off the arm his stepfather had placed around his shoulders.

Luca crossed the room to the table where his mother was sitting. She was also immaculately dressed, slender for all her forty-five years and still beautiful. "Good morning, Mom." He gave her a kiss on the cheek and sat down to eat.

"Don't be rude, Luca," she admonished him without any real heat.

His stepfather joined them at the table and helped himself to a stack of pancakes. "So, who has plans for the day?"

"I'd like to do some shopping," his mother said.

His stepfather, Salvatore Calabrese, laughed aloud, showing a disgusting view of half-chewed pancakes. "When wouldn't you like to shop, my dear Maria? Take the limo and Tony to chauffeur you around. Oh, and charge everything to the gold card I gave you."

His mother nodded and smiled at him before continuing to nibble on her toast.

Luca shrugged as he helped himself to cereal. "Not really," he said. "I might do some job hunting."

Calabrese became serious and frowned. "There are several openings in my businesses. I don't know why you won't take them."

Luca could give the man several reasons for not wanting to work protection rackets, child pornography, or human trafficking. He could, but it would be very unwise to do so. "I'll think about it."

Calabrese seemed to brighten at his words and they continued to eat in silence. The scraping sound of metal on porcelain was almost too much to bear--the sound akin to nails on a chalkboard signifying that the meal was nearing its end--and Luca couldn't be happier when Calabrese rose to his feet. "I have some meetings this morning but come and see me after lunch, Luca. That's if you've made up your mind by then." Chuckling at his own wit, he left the room.

Luca let out a sigh of relief. "Apart from unlimited credit in the designer stores, I don't know what you ever saw in him."

Maria turned a cold blue stare on him. "That unlimited credit has kept you in clothes, video games, computers, and would have put you through college if you hadn't been so stubborn. And it pays for your food. Need I go on?"

Luca sighed and sipped at a cup of coffee. "I just wish you'd turned to somebody in more legitimate businesses."

His mother gazed out of the window for a while, though he didn't think she was admiring the view. "When your father was killed, there was nobody else to turn to. Most of the big businessmen were already married or didn't want the bother of raising another man's child. I didn't have a lot of choice so, when Salvatore offered, I accepted."

He knew, deep down, her words made sense. Calabrese had tried to be a father to him, but he couldn't forget the father he'd once had--the father found with a bullet in his brain where he'd been killed execution-style, the father who'd relied on gambling, night clubs, prostitution, and money-laundering to make his money, not the stuff Calabrese dabbled in. "Yeah, Mom, whatever. I don't want to fight with you."

She turned from her perusal of the view and gazed at him. "Will you take him up on the offer of a job? It would give you some money of your own. Money you'd worked for."

Luca's temper rose. "What do you suggest, Mom? Should I become one of his sex workers?"

She frowned at him. "Of course not, but you could do the brothel accounts or something."

Luca refilled his coffee as he thought about that. At least some of the sex workers were volunteers and kept a reasonable percentage of the cash they earned. There were others who weren't so lucky, but he doubted he'd need to go near those brothels. "That's not a bad idea," he said. "I'll see what he has to say after lunch."

She reached a beautifully manicured hand across the table and patted the back of his. "I think it's for the best, Luca. Make yourself useful to him and who knows where it might lead you?"

He nodded and finished his coffee. "So, if you've got the limo, I'm left with the choice of the Merc or Beemer."

She grinned at him and tapped the hand she'd been patting. "But you won't take either. You'll climb onto that noisy motorcycle of yours."

He smiled for the first time that morning. "You could be right." He loved his Harley, although nobody would ever mistake him for a Hells Angel. Most people usually mistook him for an emo or goth, but he felt free on the purple-painted bike.

She smiled and, with a final pat to his hand, stood up. "I'd better get moving. Tony will be waiting, no doubt. I'll see you at dinner."

Luca nodded and rose in his turn. "I'll go for a run on the bike this morning and talk to Calabrese this afternoon."

She smiled again and presented him with a powdered cheek to kiss. "Thank you, darling. I'm sure you'll think of something you can do, between the two of you."

Luca heaved a sigh of resignation. "Yeah. Don't spend too much."

She gave him a look of disgust. "Naughty boy." With that parting shot, she was gone, leaving Luca to contemplate being called a boy at the age of twenty-five.

Authors:

About Auburnimp:

Auburnimp started writing when she was fifteen but never did much about it until she was older. She has had books published with Mojocastle, Liquid Silver Books, Dark Eden and Shadowfire Press.

In a chequered career she has been a knife thrower's target, a homeless vagabond, a housewife, a mother and on several occasions a feline midwife.

She now lives in a small house in Manchester England with a heap of dragon figurines, far too many books and her trusty laptop.